


Safe

by calenlily



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Comfort and caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s02e09-10 What's My Line, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24316432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calenlily/pseuds/calenlily
Summary: A fluffy little what-if of what might have happened inWhat’s My Lineif Kendra hadn’t interfered.
Relationships: Angel/Buffy Summers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35
Collections: Fluffy as a Cloud Flash Exchange





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaven/gifts).



Angel doesn’t make it home until nearly dawn, and he’s exhausted and on edge by the time he does. The night has been a disaster from start to finish. He wants nothing more than to take Spike out; ashamed of it as he is, Spike and Drusilla are family, and he can’t help feeling it’s his responsibility to deal with them (that he should have dealt with them long before it came to this). But he’s not quite foolhardy enough to think he can take the entire lair on his own. Much as waiting to act irks him, he needs allies.

After leaving Willy’s, he’d waited in vain at Buffy’s place for a good two hours, then tried the library to find only Willow and Giles. He’d passed on the information he’d gathered to Buffy’s Watcher, but it’s cold consolation to the discovery that the Slayer had bolted from the school at dusk and none of her friends have a clue as to her whereabouts either. So he’d spent the remainder of the night attempting to track her, the icy grip of fear clawing at his unbeating heart as sunrise approached with still no sign of her.

It turns out he’s been looking in all the wrong places, because as soon as he reaches his apartment he’s nearly overwhelmed by the scent of her. He walks in and there she is, curled up in his bed, peaceful in sleep.

Buffy looks so comfortable that he’s loathe to disturb her. (He shouldn’t like the sight as much as he does. She shouldn’t look so right, nestled there between his sheets.)

He crouches beside her, lightly touches her shoulder and she startles awake. For a moment her body is all coiled tension, a predator’s unerring instincts driving her fight or flight response, but she relaxes as soon as she recognizes him.

“Angel?” she murmurs. He’ll never get over the way she says his name, soft and breathy, almost wondering.

“Buffy,” he returns, warmth and relief infusing his tone.

She looks around, gathering her sleep-muddled wits. He can pinpoint the moment she remembers where she is from the blush that steals across her face. “Sorry for barging in,” she says.

He strokes a hand over her back, soothing. “I don’t mind. I’m just glad to find you safe. Your friends are worried, and I’ve been looking for you half the night.”

She colors further, looking sheepish. “Oh. Whoops. I didn’t exactly plan it, I just ... I got to my house and I just _couldn’t_. With you and Giles both power-wigging about these Taraka guys ... It got me real freaked. I couldn’t think of anyplace else I felt safe.”

It’s all kinds of twisted that the Slayer should feel most secure in a vampire’s lair, but he can’t help feeling a surge of warmth at the thought that she feels safe in his space. (It’s the same kind of perverse pleasure he’d felt when Willy the Snitch referred to Buffy as “your girl”. Their relationship being common knowledge among the supernatural underground is not exactly a good thing; there was a time when the fear his reputation engendered was a powerful protection for those known to be his, but now? Angel is not nearly as strong as he was in his soulless days, and having allied himself with the white hats has done no favors for his popularity. These days, being associated with him is more likely than not to make her additional enemies. But that knowledge did not stop the possessive satisfaction he felt at hearing his claim acknowledged.)

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re always welcome,” he says, and presses a kiss to her forehead before turning to business. “I know who ordered the Order of Taraka out.”

She sits bolt upright, coming to attention in the space of a moment. It never ceases to amaze him how swiftly and easily she shifts between girl and warrior. “Okay, spill,” the Slayer demands.

“It was Spike. If we can take him out, it should cancel the hit on you.”

“Of course it was Spike! I could’ve guessed _that_ ,” Buffy grumbles. She looks mutinous. “Are you telling me I wasted a day and a half running scared when I could have ended this already?”

“Did you have a way to take the fight to him?” Angel inquires calmly, not letting her irritation phase him. “I know where he’s keeping his base now.”

The smile that spreads across her face is all predator. “I take it back, you’re the best boyfriend.” She gets to her feet purposefully, starts straightening her clothes. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

He catches her hand before she can go far. “Buffy. It’s daylight out.”

For a minute he’s terrified that she’ll try to go charging in on her own, and he’s rarely resented the limitations of his nature more. But once understanding flashes across her face, she sits back down with a heavy sigh. “Right, you’d get all crispy-fried. And I guess I oughta check in with Giles and talk strategy and all that. Tonight, then.”

“Thank you,” Angel says sincerely, and hopes his voice does not betray the full extent of his relief that she’s chosen to listen to reason this time. Buffy is a force of nature when she sets her mind to something, and he loves her for it, but sometimes she’s a little too quick to throw caution to the wind.

She yawns, and sags against his side, and just like that the warrior is tucked away again. She tucks her feet up under her, and her voice is muffled against his chest as she asks, sounding suddenly young and vulnerable, “For now, will you hold me?”

“Of course,” he says, and is rewarded with her soft smile as she lays back down.

He takes off his coat and boots before slipping beneath the covers and curling himself around her back. She snuggles in close, and he savors the feel of her lithe body pressed against him and how easily and trustingly she makes herself at home in his arms. (There’s a voice in his head saying this is too soon, too great a temptation; he determinedly ignores it. He will not deny her any comfort it is in his power to give.)

Buffy’s breathing evens out and she is back to sleep in minutes, but Angel fights exhaustion to hold onto the moment a little longer. He knows he’ll have to rouse her for school in an hour or two. He knows there is quite a battle looming ahead of them. But just now, all of that fades away, and he is content in having his girl safe in his arms.


End file.
